On A Good Day
by imadoki
Summary: Present Day AU. Sanji knows his future looks brighthe just doesn't know it's only the reflection of his shirt. Yaoi Sanji x Gin
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I'm writing this for a near and dear friend whose favorite fandom just happens to be Gin x Sanji. Visit her fansite. I'll list it on my profile. .

**Warning:** This fic is very AU. It's set in modern times with a little (okay a lot) of OOCness. There will be crossovers and there will be slash. Please don't read if those things just piss you off. The good news: no OC's. I wouldn't do that to you.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece or any of the other animes I mention. I do own a Guitar Hero II game though. That's enough.

_Italic type indicates Sanji's thoughts this chapter._

**The Story:**

_This is going to be a great day._

"Sanji, super chef and madly good-looking young man, soon to be graduate of the Pantasia Culinary Academy, bounds out of his dorm with a devil-may-care smile. And, may I say, perfect model hair.

"Damn that's a good monologue," Sanji muttered to himself as he sauntered toward the University's main building. He ignored the odd looks passing students gave him as he strode by, alternatively muttering and whistling.

Sanji was in a good mood today. He was graduating! After two years of working nonstop on his degree he was finally achieving his goal. Grinning, he strode swiftly down concrete sidewalks through the trees and sorority buildings.

It had taken Sanji his entire senior year to convince his parents that, yes there is such a thing as a degree in 'cooking', and that yes you can actually make money doing it. They were especially reluctant to give in because Sanji was an only child and the school he wanted to attend was in Oregon. That is, several states away from Maine and mother. He had felt it part of the charm.

They had finally consented, sending Sanji enough to live on for the two years he went to school, but Sanji knew that he would eventually have to pay his own way some day. That day was the day after he graduated—tomorrow. But Sanji had no qualms. With his skills and charisma he would be hired in any of the restaurants nearby, no doubt about it.

Perhaps Spaghetti Champloo, the finest Italian eatery in the northwest would be good enough. Or Ichamaru, the Japanese chain started by Naruto, the famous actor, would be better. Yes, that would be best. Sanji felt himself to be an expert in any sort of cuisine, but he had to admit his real skill lay in the subtle flavorings of Japanese foods. He had only Nami to blame of course…

"What do you mean you only have me to blame?!!! I recall it was you who begged me to bring you something to eat when you were writing that paper on "The Daring Complexities of Wasabi". Great title, by the way," Nami snorted, shoving Sanji out of her 6'00" (plus stilettos) way.

"It was "The Delectable Complexities of Wasabi"! Besides, how did you know I way talking about _you_?" Sanji asked, startled. _How does she do that?_

"You were talking out loud again, Sweetie. It's no wonder no man in shining armor has appeared to whisk you away. You sound daft," Nami grinned, as she strutted alongside Sanji.

"What do you mean 'man'?!? I'm as straight as an arrow, as you very well know. I just have incredible fashion sense that cannot be limited to the narrow category of heterosexual. Haven't you ever heard of metrosexual? Many women find me _very_ attractive," Sanji's face reddened as he retaliated. "Besides, you're just avoiding the blame. You did feed me entirely on take out sushi and ramen for a month. Of course I have a Japanese obsession."

"_I'm_ changing the subject? Metrosexual," She looked Sanji from top to bottom. "Right."

Sanji had gone a little overboard that morning in his excitement. _There's nothing wrong with a baby blue button-up and leather pants. Well, maybe the pants are a little tight. And the shirt is shiny, which I like, especially with these matching shoes. Lots of men wear shiny, tight clothes. She just doesn't understand high fashion._

"Hey, we're here. Finally," Nami said, grabbing Sanji to keep him from walking right by the huge glass doors.

"We're here? Yes! Today is the day! This is the greatest day of my life," Sanji beamed as he entered. "And tomorrow will be even better."

_Tomorrow will be even better._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I'm writing this for a near and dear friend whose favorite fandom just happens to be Gin x Sanji.

**Warning:** This fic is very AU. It's set in modern times with a little (okay a lot) of OOCness. There will be crossovers and there will be slash. Please don't read if those things just piss you off. The good news: no OC's. I wouldn't do that to you.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece or any of the other animes I mention. I do own a Guitar Hero II game though. That's enough.

_Italic type indicates Gin's thoughts this chapter._

**The Story:**

Later, not very far away…

_This is gonna be so good._

"Hee hee hee." A mysterious figure wandered through the hallways of the Downtown Athletic Club, slinking and sliding through the futile light provided by the fluorescent lights. The figure would have seemed villainous, if not for the mop it carried or the ridiculous print of a large dragon, which seemed to have been drawn in Sharpie.

"Hee hee HA!" quickly the man, for indeed it was a man, covered his mouth to stifle his laugh. He neared approached a doorway and peered around a corner to spy on a man in the lobby who was cleaning the large glass windows in front. Brightly colored lights from the shops across the streets lit the window cleaner's neon green hair. _What is he humming? Oh no! HAHAHA! _

"Oh baby, when you dance like that…" the window cleaner continued, unaware he had an audience. He even started to dance, spritzing cleaner in the air. The mysterious mop man could take it no longer; he had to act now! He quickly ducked back into the other room, slamming the door behind him.

"What was that? Hel-loooo. Whoever you are, get out now. The club closed hours ago. Unless…You're not a human, are you?" the window man asked. "I knew it! Luffy's gonna regret that bet now! It's okay, come 'n out. I won't hurt you." Contrary to his words, he pulled out two rather large swords from his maintenance cart.

The spy only sniggered and began to throw things around the other room, tossing papers in the air and running his nails along the wood desks. He turned the fan on before sneaking out the other door. He made a wide circle through the hall before quietly sneaking behind the window cleaner who was approaching the door that had been slammed. He held his swords still in their scabbards in front of him like a cross as he stalked nearer.

"Come on out, you bugger," his whispered. "I won't-AAARGH!" He screamed as the spy finally caught him, poking him in the back with the mop. He quickly turned around, only to be caught in a frenetic hug, swords and all. _Gotcha!_

"Goddamit Gin, you scared the living hell outa me. Why ya gotta do that?" he asked.

" 'Cuz it's so bo-ring here. I hate this job," Gin sighed as the other man shoved him off. "Zor-ro." Gin whined.

"Keep workin'. You know this is the only place that'll hire us. Sure, cleanin' urinals at 2 am ain't fun, but it's legal and it pays the damn bills," Zorro griped. As always, he stopped at the look on Gin's face. "Why the hell you gotta look so tired all the time. You ever sleep? Whatever, finish the second floor and go home. I'll finish up."

Gin grinned. _Yay!_ He ran to the second floor before Zorro could change his mind. _He acts tough, but he always caves._ Zorro had just agreed to finish the third floor, saving Gin an extra hour of work. _Home again, home again._ Gin leapt and twirled on his way out to the door. However, the moment he reached it he put on a faceless mask and straightened his shoulders.

It was a 10 block walk to his home, through some of the worst streets. Even though it was one in the morning, he could see the sparks of light from glowing butts. Smoke drifted through the air, mingling with car exhaust and wet cement. He walked quickly to avoid the people passing, glancing at the White Bird Clinic. He lived in the basement of half a house around the corner of the 'Bird' where the alcoholics go and the Meth House, which is where the users were sent.

Gin didn't bother to get a key out, the door was always open. His housemates were usually too high to remember things like keys, and there was nothing to steal anyway. He tripped over the broken bicycles in the front room before descending into the basement. He counted the bodies wrapped in blankets on the floor. _Three. They're all here._ He then picked his way over to his own little nest, below the stairs. He curled up in a ball, picking though the blankets until they were piled just right. More than anything else, more than rain, more than puppies, more than food, Gin loved sleep.

_Maybe tomorrow will be better._


End file.
